


Phantasmagoria

by gretaamyk



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Spencer Reid imagine, criminal minds imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretaamyk/pseuds/gretaamyk
Summary: Y/n begins having vivid dreams about Spencer, and she realizes she cant hide her crush much longer.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 104





	Phantasmagoria

The feeling of his lips against my body was unfamiliar, but sweet in the way that had me craving more even before it was over.

Sweet like the words that slipped off his tongue, and hot like the warmth his body projected as we moved together.

The humid Virginia air made his hair stick onto his forehead from sweat. It made his panting louder, which was almost as hot as the temperature itself. I always preferred the cold, but I would move to Death Valley to see him like this again. To hear him like this again, god, what would I give to have a microphone on me right now.

The way he filled me up so perfectly was excruciating. It was like a puzzle and he was the piece that completed me. He was in my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs with each rash movement he made inside me. I was a writhing mess underneath him, and he couldn’t be enjoying it more.

“Fuck,” he whispered into my neck as his thrusts became more purposeful, “You feel so good.”

His voice was low and gravely, I couldn’t help the desperate plea that slipped out of my lips in response. He laughed, vibrating into my skin and somehow pushing me even further.

“Spencer,” My voice was a whimper that would have been embarrassing if I wasn’t so distracted.

“Say my name again, baby, just like that.” He commanded, his thrusts picked up speed and grew increasingly errant, despite his impressive composure. He was hitting depths within me that I didn’t know were possible.

“Spencer!” I moaned out again softly, my legs wrapping firmly around his torso and my heels digging into the base of his spine. His hand grabbed onto mine and intertwined our fingers against the mattress, in an act that was incredibly sweet compared to the other ways we were combined.

He kissed me again, his lips so soft and plush. My mouth opened with a moan, allowing him access to swipe his tongue against my lips. His skin was flushed pink like the color of a peach. Sunlight peered through and illuminated the high points of his body like artwork, and I couldn’t help but praise whatever choices I made to end up here in this moment with him.

I wouldn’t want it with anybody else.

“Oh God! Spencer!”

Heavy turbulence woke me up, throwing me into a seated position on the leather couch of the jet.

What the living fuck was that dream? Really brain? Spencer, of all people?

Did… Did I want to fuck Spencer?

It was still dark outside, but I could see lights from the cities below. It was busier night life than in our little city, so I knew there was still a while before we actually got home. I wished that I could sleep through the trip, but it seemed that it was in my best interest to stay awake.

I looked over the sea of my coworkers, curled up in the couches and chairs that lined the walls of the jet. All of them were sound asleep. Except for one, who sat at the opposite end as me, reading a book I’ve seen him read thousands of times before. He didn’t even need the book anymore to recite the text aloud.

It was Spencer.

Fuck. Please, someone, crash this jet at your earliest convenience.

With my reoccurring habit of talking in my sleep, the realization filled me with worry and embarrassment of the possibility. My mouth felt dry, but I forced myself to speak.

“S-Spencer?” I asked, the name suddenly tasting bitter in my mouth, as if it had been compromised by his intimate guest appearance in my subconscious. He jumped at my voice, pulling his attention away from his book.

“Huh? Oh, you’re awake.” He said in a quiet voice, seemingly unfazed. I must not have said anything. I felt the anxiety leave my body in a relieved exhale. “Sleep well?”

I chuckled awkwardly, he cocked his head resembling a dog trying to process an unfamiliar sound. I adjusted myself to sit normally on the couch, with my feet flat against the vibrating ground of the jet’s aisle. “You have no idea.”

-

The dreams didn’t stop. Luckily after that first time, they occurred only when I fell asleep in my own bed, hopefully saving me from any embarrassment.

But the reality was I didn’t allow myself to fall asleep anywhere else after the second dream. I couldn’t take that risk, even if that meant going insane during a midnight commute.

Still, I can’t say that the dreams weren’t pleasant. They were incredible, and not all of them had sex. I had kids, I was married, I had a beautiful life. Something that always surprised me though, was the happiness I felt in that moment when my tired eyes blinked themselves awake. Then that washed away, replaced by a strong sadness when I realized it was all fake. Then, I felt incredibly guilty. This was Spencer I was fantasizing about, my coworker. Even worse than that, they stopped being innocent fantasies. I had grown genuine feelings for Spencer Reid.

I opened the cupboard of the break room, looking for my mug. My eyes narrowed once I spot it on the highest shelf out of my reach. I groaned, looking around the room for something to help me. Usually I would just say fuck it and climb up onto the counter, but of course the one day Morgan decides to do this is the day I wore a skirt. I also decided to rule out climbing up on a chair. I instead stretched like my life depended on it. My toes cramped as I pushed up on them. My finger tips grazed the cold ceramic as they curled over the lip of the shelf. The wood was painful as it dug into my wrist, but I figured I would keep trying.

Then I felt a warm body unintentionally move against mine as Spencer appeared seemingly out of no where, and easily reached up to grabbed my mug. I felt my heart palpitate as I took the cup and thanked him, and then I felt it cry when his touch retreated.

“No problem.” He smiled a kind smile, one that crinkled his eyes and dimpled his cheeks. The heartbeat returned, and I was almost sure he could hear it.

The saliva in my mouth seemed to evaporate before I could continue the conversation like I so desperately wanted to. He grabbed his own mug, before pouring coffee into it, and then some into my mug too. He finished them with the cream and sugar, and he left before I had the chance to thank him for that too. It was almost like that was something he always did, a natural part of his routine. But it wasn’t. So I stood there, once again alone, but infinitely more confused than I had been before.

Spencer was my best friend, I wasn’t supposed to think of him like that. He was a polite guy, that’s all it was. I’m just being weird… I’m sure.

I walked out with my coffee and sat at my desk with a pile of files sent to us from police stations around the county. It was just a paperwork day, so all we needed to do was read and the case details, build a profile based off the basic information, and send them back. Spencer would always lecture me about eating and drinking around case files, but he wasn’t here right now… thankfully.

Okay, file one. I opened the first case file, one sent from Denver. A Jane Doe, approximately around twenty to twenty five years old, white, blonde hair, brown eyes. Fingers cut off and four stab wounds to the abdomen, wow, lovely, okay.

I took another long sip of my coffee, feeling like a I was going to need a lot of it if this was where I was starting at 9:00 am on a Tuesday.

I put the cup down, jumping out of my skin seeing someone standing directly in front of me, making me almost dump my coffee all over the pile. Shit, I hate it when Spencer’s right.

“Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t mean to scare you,” He laughed an apology while I steadied my breath. It was just Paul, an agent in a separate division who we had worked with on our most recent case.

“Hey, Paul, can I help you?”

“I hope so. Strauss sent me for the case file for that New Orleans case, she said it should be prioritized.”

“Oh, thank you…” I trailed off, taking the file from him and setting it at the top of my pile. “Did, um, did Strauss send you to me, specifically.”

He shrugged, “Not you specifically, just anyone here…” His voice trailed off, I raised my eyebrows.

“…But?” I asked, anticipating the end of his sentence.

“But,” He agreed, “I was kind of looking for an excuse to see you.”

I blinked, and smiled, slightly confused. I let my eyes fall to Spencer who was walking back into the room. I made myself look back to Paul, though I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead I brought my mug up to my lips and took a sip to fill the silence with something that made sense.

“And I was wondering if I could take you out sometime. On a date.”

I choked on my coffee. “A date?” I sputtered out. Paul shrugged and nodded. “With you?”

“Of course with me.” He laughed. I smiled in response as I tried to hide the fact that I needed to think so hard about my answer. My ears seemed to purposefully change channels to listen to Spencer’s voice over everything else in this loud office. He was talking with JJ, she said something that him laugh. I knew he used to have feelings for her. I didn’t think that he liked her anymore, but he did at one point. He probably had a type, and if it was anything like JJ I just didn’t fit it.

That wasn’t going to happen for me.

I needed to forget about it and move on with my life.

I responded before I gave myself the opportunity to back out.

“That sounds great.”

-

It was finally the end of the week, the work day was over and my date with Paul was in less than a few hours. But even with a few hours, I didn’t have time to go home to get ready, so I opted to get ready in the work bathroom.

I stepped into my short red cocktail dress, but I struggled to get the zipper up. I bent myself into a pretzel trying to reach it and fasten it, but it just wasn’t working.

I swore and packed my work clothes into my bag. I slid on my heels and left the bathroom to go look for one of the girls to fasten my zipper for me. I just hoped that they hadn’t left yet.

It felt weird wearing these clothes in the office. I’ve done it before for times when I had to go undercover in the past, though the circumstances were extremely different. Weirdly though, it didn’t feel much different. It felt like I was playing somebody else, wearing this because I had to.

I pulled my lips between my teeth, seeing a surprisingly empty bullpen. Then I heard footsteps approaching, echoing through the empty space. Thank god.

“Y/n.” Spencer greeted flatly, and my face immediately dropped. “You okay?”

I wet my lips with my tongue as I weighed my options. He was the only available one, it seemed. I sighed.

“I’m okay…Can you help me with my zipper? Please?” I asked, grabbing my arm with my other hand as I shifted uncomfortably in my stance. “I almost pulled a muscle trying to do it myself,” I joked, trying to rid the room of the tension we formed between us. He didn’t laugh.

“Your…um,” He cleared his throat, “Yes, I can help with that.”

I flashed a courteous smile at him, before turning around and moving my hair out of the way. His hand grabbed my zipper and slid it up my dress almost painfully slowly. I almost wished he was pulling the zipper down instead. His breath was hot against my neck, but it sent cold chills down my body. His touch lingered, neither of us pulled away. His hand hesitated, before placing it gently on my waist and turning me to face him. I stumbled in my heels, but his other hand stabilized me.

His eyes didn’t stray from mine for a second. My lungs were a balloon, and his intense stare was the strong hand that deflated it.

“Don’t go out with him.” He said fragilely, his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. The surprised noise that exited my body resembled a mouse, I covered it up with a cough, and then an uncomfortable laugh (which wasn’t intentional).

“Why shouldn’t I?” I furrowed my eyebrows, putting my hand up between us to bring an enforced distance that he would have otherwise breached.

“You don’t like Paul.” He spoke matter-o-factly, his already dark eyes seemed to grow darker. “He doesn’t deserve to be dragged along if you don’t actually like him.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at the sudden accusation. I couldn’t exactly say he was wrong, and I knew it wasn’t fair, but I was still taken aback by his self proclaimed authority. It was almost irritating despite its unfortunate truth. “Who says I don’t like Paul?”

“I do. You don’t like Paul.” He said like it was a fact. I took a step back, but he took one forward to combat it. My back hit the desk, and his hands found themselves there too, on either side of me, trapping me there in front of him. I swallowed. “You like me.”

“What?” I widened my eyes, “Spencer, I do not!” I argued, but my ever-blushing skin was a dead give away that I was lying. Betrayed by my own nervous system.

“I may not be great with social queues, but I happen to know that you do.”

His face was near inches from mine. I wanted nothing more than to close the gap between us. But I couldn’t. I shook the thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch, and made myself look into his eyes with a false confidence that I wasn’t capable of naturally.

“That’s horseshit.” I spat, shoving his arm away so I could escape from his trap. “Get off me.”

“It’s not at all ‘horseshit’, Y/n! I know it! And I know you!”

“Even if I did, why would it matter? You don’t like me!” I yelled, suddenly on the verge of tears. I prayed to God that I wouldn’t cry. I needed to be stoic. I needed to show him that I was fine. But I was failing, tears pricked my eyes and my voice cracked pathetically while I spoke. “Please, let me find someone who does. I feel like I deserve that.”

I picked my bag up off the floor, and made my way to the doors of the bullpen. He stood behind me, not speaking. I assumed that he gave up, leaving me with a strange contradictory mix of disappointment and relief. I wiped away my tears as I walked, hoping that I didn’t ruin my makeup.

“I heard you on the jet.”

I stopped. Not intentionally, but my legs betrayed me to him by paralyzing themselves in their place. Heat filled my body, flushing my skin pink. I had to listen, I physically couldn’t avoid it. But I didn’t look at him. It would be too hard.

“You said my name.” He continued, his voice gone from all frustration. It was soft, it was tired.

We both know I didn’t just say his name, and I was thankful that he had the decency to leave the rest of the details out. I didn’t want to know what I did. But still, embarrassment filled my entire being like blood. Neither of us knew what to say, so we didn’t.

I sighed, and blinked slowly, squeezing tears out from my eyes and down my cheeks.

“It was just a dream, Spence.” I finally said, my voice was shaky and tearful. This time I didn’t try to hide it. I wiped away the salty tears that I could now taste on my painted lips. “You of all people know it means nothing.”

I kept walking. I didn’t look back, I couldn’t look back.

“Y/n, wait!” He ran after me and grabbed a tight, binding hold on my arm. I stopped only because I physically had to. I looked down at his hand that restrained me, and trailed up his arm to look at his face with a sharp expression. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t.

“Let’s say you don’t feel anything for me. Which I still don’t believe.” I rolled my eyes at his statement, but allowed him to finish. “I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you.”

I inhaled sharply, my eyes widened. I looked quickly around the empty hallways of the BAU to see if anyone else was there.

This… This was a dream. Wasn’t it? It had to be.

“W-What?” I asked shakily.

“I’m in love with you.”

His words were an IV, that he used to fill me with whatever he wanted. It filled me with light. It filled me with warmth. It was relief.

“I’m… I’m inordinately terrible at feelings. I ignore them, I-I repress them. I fight them.” He was now crying, and so was I. But this time, it was for a completely different reason. “I can’t fight them anymore. I cant watch you date someone else. I just can’t.”

I struggled to respond. I wanted nothing more than to tell him how strongly I did truly feel, but all that came out were a jumbled mess of word fragments and tears.

“Before you say anything… Let me try something.”

He closed the gap between us like he had been waiting to do so for his whole life. His hands protectively cupped my face as his lips softly brushed against mine. I sighed into the kiss, allowing myself to melt into him. He relaxed and I could tell this was the reaction he was hoping for. My eyes fluttered shut, my arms snaked lazily around his neck. I felt so light that I could fly away, but I also felt like I could faint. It was far too good to be true.

Spencer always loved Phantasmagoria shows. Stage performances from the past and present that used special effects to make you feel like you were in a dream. It was real, but it felt like nothing in the waking world you had ever experienced before. But from the moments I dreamed to the moments I lived, who knew that falling for him would be one in itself?

We broke apart, but we lingered there together. Braided together like twine in the middle of our workplace hallways. I inhaled his scent, an autumnal mix of clove and coffee. It shocked my senses into the unfiltered realization that this was real life, I just kissed him. I could still taste the coffee on his breath, I didn’t drink it the same way he did, but I could get used to it if this was how I would taste it.

I looked up at him to see he was already looking down at me.

“Did I live up to the standards of your dream?” He asked with a dumb smile on his face. I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the embarrassed pinkness growing in my cheeks.

“It was better.” I smiled back, biting the same lip he bit just moments before. “It was real.”


End file.
